Here's a shot of White Cat, who usually hangs out across the street from us. Cars would drive up, White Cat would give them That Look, and the cars would carefully drive around him.
Coming home this afternoon in the humongous Gorm Mor, I saw somebody hanging out at the trash collection point. No idea why (though we do sometimes have bad actors come through our rural locale) until I glimpsed one of those little pug-like dogs in-between the cans and realized he must be a neighbor. Had to slow WAY to make sure the dog didn't run under Gorm Mor's tires.
Looking at your photo I would probably have to straddle White Cat, move very slow, and pray for the best.
When I was a boy I ran over a bird once (couldn't help it, it flew under my bicycle's front wheel). Not a nice experience.
Unlike LoM who, I guess following in the footsteps of her hunter father, bagged a pheasant with her car.